Yin and Yang
by dogsrock101
Summary: Like the sun and the moon, light and dark, yin and yang, one cannot exist without the other. As opposite and different as they are, they compliment each other. A collection of one-shots featuring Lupin and the gang, and my versions of their significant others (OCs).
1. The Thief and the Detective

Sonia Rodriguez was out of her element.

A Brooklyn detective, she dealt with cases that involved drugs, gangs, or weapons. In fact, it was usually a mix of the three. She was used to interrogating a gang member for hours on end, to no avail. She was used to handcuffing drug dealers and confiscating their guns. Having grown up in the ghettos of Brooklyn herself, she knew how to handle herself and was capable of anything Brooklyn wanted to throw at her.

She wasn't expecting the curve ball Japan had thrown her.

Inspector Zenigata was a good man, but an eccentric one. He was a clumsy fellow who spoke his mind (and spoke it loud and clear for that matter) and had twice the amount of energy of men half his age. He was quite the handful. Rodriguez had actually considered putting the man on a leash so he wouldn't keep wandering off. But when she saw the glint in his eyes as he rambled on and on about all the heists Lupin had pulled, she knew he was serious about his job.

"And this one time, he–" the Inspector suddenly cut himself short, staring straight ahead through the throng of people. Before Rodriguez could ask what was wrong, he suddenly pointed and shouted, "There! That's him!"

Rodriguez looked in the direction he was pointing. With such a crowded street, she couldn't tell who he was pointing at. "Who…?" But the Inspector was already racing ahead of her, pulling out his handcuffs as he went. "Inspector!" She chased after him, ignoring the disgruntled looks of New Yorkers as she shoved her way past them. Inspector Zenigata was surprisingly nimble and fast for a man his age, but she caught up with him soon enough.

"Lupin!" Zenigata shouted, raising his handcuffs in the air and waving them. That was when Rodrigeuz noticed that the handcuffs were fastened to a _rope._ Was that how they arrested people in Japan?

A man dressed in an obnoxiously red jacket turned to face them. A wide grin stretched across his monkey-ish face. "Heya, Pops! Come to visit me?"

Rodriguez knew in that instant he was going to be a handful.

Zenigata growled. "No, I've come to arrest you!" Swinging his handcuffs around like a lasso, he shot his wrist forward. The handcuffs went flying through the air and, to Rodriguez's shock, clasped onto Lupin's wrist. Zenigata roared with triumphant laughter. He pulled on the rope so that Lupin was dragged to them. He was a tall and skinny fellow, almost comically so.

"Think you could escape me?" chuckled Zenigata.

"I don't think you wanna hear the answer to that," Lupin replied cheekily.

"It was a rhetorical question," quipped Rodriguez, feeling it was necessary to stand up for her partner. Lupin's eyes flickered to her. They were filled with curiosity and scrutiny. Although he didn't act like he was, she knew he was sizing her up.

"Well, I have a question for you that's definitely not rhetorical." He gave her what he must've supposed was a charming grin. "What's your name?"

"Detective Rodriguez."

"And what's a pretty lady like yourself doin' with ol' Pops?"

"Old?!" Zenigata huffed indignantly, his tan cheeks coloring.

"I'm his partner," Rodriguez replied firmly. She glanced down at the handcuff around the thief's wrist. If he wanted to play games, then so be it. "Though it seems like our case is closed, Inspector." She couldn't help but smirk slightly at Lupin. He raised his eyebrows but smirked right back at her. A silent challenge.

Zenigata roared with laughter. "I couldn't have said it better myself!"

"I admire your confidence, Detective," Lupin drawled, mischief glinting in his eyes. "But I'm afraid you've misspoken."

Then, in a blink of an eye, he was out of his handcuffs and running down the street. A fake, plastic hand swung in the handcuff that had once been around Lupin's wrist.

Rodriguez shook her head, not comprehending what had just happened. Luckily, her police instincts kicked in and she immediately gave chase, the Inspector hot on her heels. He was livid, cursing and raising a fist in the air angrily. She, however, was quiet and took a moment to reflect on the ridiculousness of what had just happened. Was this man a thief or a clown?! He was making a fool out of them!

"He's heading towards the subway!" Zenigata shouted, pointing ahead at the red figure sprinting down the steps towards the subway. Rodriguez knew there was no way they would catch up with him in time; he would board the train and disappear from sight.

Wait a second. Rodriguez stopped short, staring at the station numbers. Then she grinned widely.

"Let's split up!" she shouted to the Inspector, suddenly swerving to the right. "You keep going after him."

"What?!" Zenigata said incredulously, turning towards her. But Rodriguez was already sprinting in the other direction. He growled wordlessly and shook his head, mumbling underneath his breath about the spontaneity and undependability of Americans as he continued after Lupin.

~-x-~-x-~-x-~

Lupin hummed to himself, smiling and bobbing his head to the rhythm of the subway car rattling along the tracks. He had (once again) successfully escaped Pops. It had been a close call, too. The door had shut Lupin in right in time, causing Zenigata to face plant against it before the train began to take off. Zenigata had chased after the train as long as he could, shouting and waving his arms frantically, but the train kept going and Zenigata eventually ran out of platform.

Lupin wasn't sure where Zenigata's new female partner (Detective Rod-up-her-ass) had gone off to. She hadn't been with Zenigata when he had chased Lupin into the subway station. She was either slow or had given up all hope and hadn't bothered to chase Lupin down. No matter. If she was going to be Zenigata's temporary partner while Lupin prepared for his heist in New York, then he was sure he'd see her again.

"Last stop," said a voice over the intercom. "All passengers are asked to leave. Please don't forget any personal belongings. Again, last stop. Last stop."

Lupin stood up and glanced around. He frowned. He hadn't realized that this train was only taking him one stop away from the last station. That meant that Zenigata was only one stop behind him; he could catch up quickly. With this in mind, Lupin quickly hopped out of the train when it came to halt. He may have had a head start on Zenigata, but he wasn't certain how often the trains came. Zenigata may have been on his way right now.

He had barely taken two steps forward when he heard a female voice shout, "Stop right there, Lupin!"

He froze. That was impossible…

"Hands in the air, now!"

Cursing himself, Lupin raised his hands in the air. He didn't have to look to know there was a gun pointed at him.

The other passengers who had gotten off the train scurried away in a hurry, glancing cautiously at Lupin. He grinned cheekily at an elderly woman, who gasped scandalously and struck him with her bag. Lupin supposed she must've had rocks in that bag; he doubled over in pain and groaned.

"Ma'am, please!" Rodriguez sounded both amused and exasperated. "I wouldn't want to charge you for physical assault."

"I was just doing my civic duty, officer," the old woman said in a sweet old voice. Then she turned her eyes on Lupin, and her innocent expression quickly turned into a glare even the devil would've quavered under. "You should be happy you have her to protect you!" she hissed. "If I had my way, I'd…" She shook her bag at Lupin menacingly. He rolled his eyes. She sniffed indignantly and, glaring at him one last time, made her leave. Lupin stuck his tongue out after her.

Rodriguez's badge glimmered in the dim lighting as she moved slowly towards Lupin, both hands on her gun.

"Turn around," she ordered. "Slowly."

Lupin did as he was told. He didn't seem fazed by the gun pointed directly at his chest. Instead, he grinned.

Rodriguez raised an eyebrow.

"Detective Rodriguez," he greeted. "I wasn't expecting to see you so soon." He raised an eyebrow questioningly, curiosity getting the best of him. "How did you beat me here?"

This time it was Rodriguez who grinned. "I'm a Brooklyn native, bud. I know my way around the city."

Lupin supposed she meant there was a shortcut to the station that he wasn't aware of. It must've been some shortcut if she could beat him on foot.

He sighed and shrugged, which looked and felt awkward since his arms were still raised in the air. "Not fair."

"Life's not fair," she replied, taking out her handcuffs once she had closed in on him. "Now turn around and put your hands behind your back. You're under arrest for burglary and for fleeing from the police." She clasped the handcuffs around his wrists. The steel coolness of them was familiar against Lupin's skin. She began to read him his Miranda Rights, which amused him quite a bit – he'd forgotten that that the American police did that. It'd been a while since he'd had a heist in the States.

"With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?"

Lupin realized she had finished, and he grinned. "You know," he drawled, making it clear he hadn't been listening to a single word she'd said, "I've always fantasized about a woman handcuffing me. But not like this."

He could sense her bristling indignantly and impatiently behind him. He chuckled softly to himself. "I hope you've also fantasized about going to jail," she retorted, taking him firmly by the arm as she began to guide him towards the stairs. "'Cause that's where you're going for a long time."

"I've never stayed in jail for long," he replied cockily, grinning at her. "But if I have you to keep me company, maybe I'll make an exception."

She sighed and shook her head. His grin only widened. "You're gonna be a handful in the interrogation room," she grumbled, tightening her grip on his arm as they made their way up the stairs.

Lupin's grin became mischievous. "Just like I am in the bedroom." He awaited her reaction, wondering if she would smack or threaten him.

She grimaced and pulled a face, facing him sharply to give him a stern look. A moment passed, and Lupin wondered if she would gag him to shut him up. Then, to his surprise, she grinned. There was a glint to her eyes that told him she wasn't up to any good. Perhaps there was more to this detective than there appeared to be on the surface. "Only a handful?" She sounded unimpressed, but the smirk on her face gave her amusement away.

It took a good moment for Lupin to fully understand her insinuation. His mouth involuntarily dropped when he realized what she was saying. She raised her eyebrows at him innocently. But Lupin knew she had just sent him a challenge. In fact, she had inevitably just started a war between them.

He grinned widely. If she wanted a war, then she would get one. "Y'know what, Detective?" He heard Zenigata shouting after them in the distance; he must've just pulled up in a train. Rodriguez looked at him questioningly, daring him to speak. "I have a feeling you and I are gonna get along just fine."


	2. The Gunman and the Ballerina

The music reached a crescendo. The dancers clad in black twirled their way away from the center of the stage as a figure dressed in white emerged from a coffin. She looked ethereal when she slowly stepped out of the coffin, her toes en pointe and her arms stretched up towards the stage lights. She looked out at the silent audience before her, a smile gracing her red lips. Then she turned to her right, and the dance began.

Jigen silently watched the dance, most of his attention on the woman in white. Sometimes he wondered if they'd really grown up together in the same neighborhood. They'd taken such drastically different paths. He, a life of crime. She, a life of ballet.

She'd always been different. Like a flower in the desert, she was the Lily from Chicago. Jigen wasn't sure how she'd survived all those years living in the slums, how she'd managed to stay so innocent and pure in a place so foul and full of bloodshed. He certainly hadn't. But Lily was another story. Kind and caring, yet strong-willed and fearless, she would stand in front of a gun to protect another's life. In fact, Jigen remembered the time she had stepped in front of his fully-loaded Magnum to protect some punk who didn't even deserve her help. But she'd helped him anyway. That was Lily for you. She'd risk her life for some lowlife she sometimes didn't even know.

Jigen smiled to himself and shook his head. Whatever you wanted to call it – bravery or foolishness – Lily had gotten out the ghettos unscathed. From the slums of Chicago to the concrete jungle of New York to the streets of Paris, she had come a long way. Jigen had taken a very different route for his life, but he too had come a long way. And here they were now, together again, two kids from the streets of Chicago in Paris's renowned opera theater. If somebody'd told Jigen ten years ago where he'd be on this faithful night, he would've clutched his hat and laughed. But if somebody'd told him ten years ago where Lily would be on this faithful night, he would've grinned and replied, "Damn right."

Yet here they both were. Fate sure had a strange sense of humor.

~-x-~-x-~-x-~

She was waiting for him outside the back entrance of the theater. Night had fallen and the sky was dark, casting the alleyway in a dark shadow. There was only one streetlight in the alley, and Lily was standing directly below it. Her eyes were scanning the shadows every which way. Jigen couldn't help but smile. Those years out of the slums had not softened her street smarts.

He came to a stop a few feet away from her and made his presence known. "Lils."

She turned at the sound of her name. Her eyes lit up and she grinned when she saw Jigen step out of the shadows, his lips quirked into a smirk.

"Jigen!"

She ran at him and half-tackled, half-embraced him. Jigen laughed as he stumbled back, one hand around her back and the other on the wall to steady himself.

"Careful, now." He chuckled.

She squeezed him tightly, burrowing her face against his chest. He softened and wrapped both arms around her, enjoying the warmth of her embrace. They stood like that for a few moments. Jigen wished the moment would never end.

"I've missed you," she mumbled into his shirt.

He ruffled her hair. "I've missed you too."

She loosened her grip on him so she could look up at him. To his surprise, she laughed. "I can't believe you still have that hat!" She tugged on it playfully. "I gave that to you, what, on your twentieth birthday?"

"Of course I still have it," he huffed indignantly, straightening his hat. "It's kept me from harm's way." Her expression flickered at his words, and he silently cursed himself. Lily was well aware of his profession. She had long since accepted that his work involved danger and bullets and handcuffs. But it never stopped her from worrying. "Besides," he said, trying to cheer her up, "it reminds me of you."

If Lily were another woman, she may have blushed at his words. But it was Jigen who blushed at the look of utter adoration she gave him.

"Aw, Jigen, that's so sweet of you." She smiled and put a hand to her heart. "I'm touched." Jigen mumbled something incoherently underneath his breath. He'd forgotten how straightforward and honest she was. He put his hands in his pockets and kicked at the ground. Lily's smile grew as she recognized his embarrassment. Despite how adorable he was when he was embarrassed, she wanted him to feel at ease. "But I didn't give you that hat so you can hide your face underneath it!" She snatched the hat from his head and plopped it down on her own. "I'm taking it back."

Jigen scowled. "You can't take back a present you gave me!"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I just did."

His smirk became devious. "We'll see about that."

"What're you…!" She squealed and laughed when he jumped her. She gave a fight, but not even she could hold Jigen and his beloved hat apart. He triumphantly wrestled it from her hands and put it back in its rightful place (his head). "Oh, fine, keep your stupid hat," she huffed. "As a matter of a fact, why don't you and your hat go explore Paris together? Maybe I'll go find Lupin and see if he's interested in a moonlight walk with me." She grinned mischievously.

Jigen knew she was only joking; she wouldn't seriously be jealous of his hat. But the thought of her and Lupin exploring the streets of Paris certainly made _him_ jealous. He grasped onto her wrist when she attempted to walk away (which she did only to further tease him, of course).

"You'll have a chance to catch up with Lupin tomorrow," he assured her. "He knows Paris like the back of his hand. Me, though? I need a tour."

"I'm a ballerina, not a tour guide," was her playful reply. "But for you, I guess I can make an exception." She paused, and Jigen knew that the glint in her eyes could only mean trouble. "I'm still gonna have to charge you, though."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" he asked, playing along. "How much?"

She stepped towards him, her eyes on his. The playful smile was gone from her lips. "All I ask for," she said quietly, "is for one kiss."

Jigen hesitated. For many years he had struggled to define the relationship he had with Lily. They were friends – nothing more – was what had had always told himself. But deep down he knew it was a lie. He was in love with Lily. It scared him as much as it invigorated him. He knew that, if they were to get together, he would be placing her in grave danger. If anybody were to find out about Lily, there was always the possibility that she would be used as bait. There was also the long-distance issue. Whereas Lily was living in France, Jigen was always on the move. Their relationship, at least as lovers, would be unpractical.

That had always been Jigen's reasoning. But he had never been faced with this predicament before. Lily was still staring up at him expectantly, a slight crinkle of apprehension in her brows as she awaited his response. What he did or said next would determine what would happen next in their relationship. Did he want to keep playing pretend, or did he finally want to make something of their relationship? It was all up to him now.

Jigen leaned down and gently pressed his lips against hers. He could sense her surprise, and he smiled through the kiss. Then he leaned back and waited for her reaction. After she opened her eyes, she stared at him for a long moment, dumbfound. Then she suddenly lunged forward and captured his lips in a kiss again. The kiss wasn't quite so gentle this time around – she kissed him fervently, and when they finally drew apart they were both breathless.

Jigen, never one to lose his composure, grinned. "You owe me two tours now."

Lily laughed in surprise. Her cheeks were a rosy pink, which he found very endearing. "That'll take us all night!"

"For you, Lils?" The corner of his lips curved into a half-smirk, half-smile. "I've got until the end of time."

She rolled her eyes, pretending that his words didn't charm her (though the blush on her cheeks said otherwise). "Since when did you get so corny?" she joked, her eyes twinkling in amusement. "Seems like Lupin's been rubbing off on you."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've always been charming."

She rolled her eyes again and smiled to herself, shaking her head. "Alright, Prince Charming, do you want your tour of Paris or not?" She extended a hand towards him.

"Oui," he said softly, the corner of his lips curving upwards. He gently looped his fingers through hers.

And, hand in hand, into the moonlit streets of Paris they went.

* * *

 _What I really wanted to convey through this relationship is how Lily brings out Jigen's softer side. We all know he's one tough gunman, but deep down he has feelings too. I took it upon my own liberty to create a history/background for him and Lily. I've always imagined Jigen growing up in a tough neighborhood. The guy deserves some love! Which is why this will be one of the gushier/more romantic chapters than the others.  
_

 _Next chapter: Goemon!_


	3. The Samurai and the Cowgirl

"This," hissed Goemon, "was not what I had in mind when you told us we were going on vacation."

"I second that," muttered Jigen darkly. His cigarette drooped sadly down the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, brighten up you two!" Lupin replied brightly. "Enjoy the country air, won't you?" He grinned and adjusted the cowboy hat on his head. The Western look suited him surprisingly well. His button-down shirt, blue jeans, cowboy boots, and cowboy hat made him appear glaringly American.

Jigen and Goemon exchanged dark looks. When Lupin had told them that they were going on a vacation and that it was a surprise, they'd assumed that they were going on a cruise or somewhere with a lot of sun, perhaps the Bahamas. But no. They'd been taken to a ranch in the States, with no sign of civilization nearby. Fujiko had also come along with them on the trip, but when she'd laid eyes on the ranch she'd taken the first flight out. Jigen and Goemon were about to do the same. It was only their second day here, but if it was as awful as the first (they'd toiled in the mud and hay all day) they were going to leave. Even Lupin wouldn't be able to stop them.

Surprisingly, Lupin took to the country as if he'd been raised here. He'd always been a city boy, so it was shocking to see him shovel hay and horse manure with barely any complaint. Goemon and Jigen, on the other hand, hadn't taken to the country as well. Goemon appreciated the fresh air and the beautiful view, but the workload – the type of work he had to do, specifically – was another story. He also found it troubling that their hosts didn't have a single grain of rice in their kitchen or farm. Jigen was simply not a man suited for the country. He was a city slicker and always would be. If Goemon and Lupin weren't there to keep him company, he may have been driven insane from boredom.

They were currently heading to the horse stables, where they would have their first lesson on riding a horse. The sun was now shining brightly down upon them. When they'd gotten up in the morning, it had still been dark out.

"Mornin', y'all," greeted the ranch owner, Joe, his thumbs hooked around his belt loops. He grinned and appraised the vacationers. They totaled fifteen altogether and ranged from city-goers to country dwellers. "How's your first morning at the ranch been so far?"

There were mixed responses, ranging from "hell" to "fantastic!" Joe just laughed a hearty laugh and told them "you city slickers just gonn have to learn to appreciate our honest, hard-workin' ways."

"We're thieves," grumbled Jigen indignantly, so quietly that only Goemon and Lupin would hear him. "We don't work honestly."

"We're on vacation," Lupin reminded him, wiggling a finger. "Thieves need to work an honest day once in a while too."

Jigen only glared at him in response.

The ranchers began to walk out the horses while Joe began to talk about safety concerns. Goemon listened, but with some difficulty; Joe's accent was thick and difficult to understand. Jigen's lips curled in disdain when a horse was walked over to him, while Lupin jumped around excitedly like a child. Goemon merely stared on neutrally, neither disliking nor liking the creatures.

"Howdy," greeted the rancher who had brought the horse over to Goemon. She smiled at him. She was pretty, with blonde hair and hazel eyes. Freckles were scattered along her cheeks and nose. But Goemon knew that her looks were deceiving; cowgirls were a different brand of woman and were not ones to be taken lightly.

"Hello," replied Goemon.

"'Hello'?" she raised an eyebrow and put a hand on her hip. "That's not how we greet each other 'round here! Can I hear a big 'howdy, partner'?"

Goemon's lips twitched irritably. Unlike Lupin, he didn't enjoy playing along with the whole 'country' theme. The whole thing was stupid, if you asked him. "Howdy, partner," he muttered.

"I didn't hear you!" She put a hand to her ear and leaned towards him.

"Howdy, partner," he said again, louder this time. He felt like an idiot.

"That's the spirit!" She clapped him encouragingly on the back. He 'oof'ed in surprise. These Southern Americans certainly were a vibrant lot. "I'm Annabelle, your instructor for today." Thankfully her accent wasn't quite as thick the owner's; Goemon could understand what she was saying. She extended her hand towards him and he shook it. It was rough and calloused from what must've been years of hard labor.

"My name is Goemon."

"Go-eh-mahn," she repeated, trying the name on her tongue, screwing up her eyes in concentration. "Did I say it right?"

"Go-eh- _mon_ ," he corrected, amused rather than insulted. "Mo-nn."

"Goemon," she tried again, slowly. She grinned when Goemon smiled and nodded his approval. "That's some name you got!" Perhaps fearing he would take that as an insult, she added, "I like it very much."

"Thank you," he replied, slightly surprised by her compliment. Then again, he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. She already seemed a friendly person; certainly she would be nice and try to make him feel welcome.

"Where're you from?" she asked, glancing curiously at his attire. She'd probably never seen a man clothed in the traditional kimono. Jokingly, she suggested, "New York, maybe?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. I'm from Japan."

She raised her eyebrows and whistled lowly. "Japan, huh? That's quite a ways out there. This your first time out here?"

"No, we've been to America many times." He gestured to Jigen and Lupin as he spoke. Jigen was standing a good few feet away from his horse, staring at it in disdain. Lupin was busy flirting with his instructor. "But we've only ever stayed in the cities."

"Of course," she laughed. "That's where all the business is. I'm assuming y'all are businessmen?"

Goemon shrugged. "Of sorts."

Her eyes flashed curiously but she said nothing of it. Perhaps she had a bit of street-smart in her after all. "Well, the business may be in the north, but down south?" She grinned at him. "That's where all the good people are. We may not have them fancy skyscrapers, but what do you need 'em for when you've got ice cold beer and people to drink it with?"

Goemon imagined the American flag flying out behind her. That had to be one of the most American things he'd ever heard. He couldn't help but smile a little at her pride.

"That's my opinion, anyway." She shrugged. "But enough about me. Tell me about Japan, Goemon."

He was pleasantly surprised by what appeared to be her genuine curiosity. "What would you like to know?"

"Everything!" she laughed. "I ain't never met a Japanese person before. What's it like over there? The land? The people? The culture?"

He chuckled softly at her enthusiasm. "It would take me all day to explain everything."

"We'll have to save it for another time, then, or Joe will have my head. I'm supposed to be teaching you how to ride a horse right now!" She chuckled. "I'll teach you how to ride a horse and you'll teach me all about Japan. How does that sound to yah?"

He smiled. "I'd like that very much." It had been a long time since anyone had been so eager to learn about his country, and he found her excitement both endearing and flattering.

She winked at him. "It's a date."

Perhaps this vacation wasn't going to be so bad after all.


	4. The Tramp and the Gentleman

**WARNING** : _Strong sexual situations/implications/language used in this chapter. Nothing explicit._

* * *

The night air was warm and sweet. A refreshing breeze swept by, ruffling Fujiko's hair and nightgown. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the silence and the fresh air. She was used to the hustle and bustle of cities, but out here in the small town of Mitaka, there was nobody awake at three A.M. Other than her, that was.

She would have to head back to Tokyo tomorrow morning to gather further intel on her next heist. She was starting to get behind in her work, and Lupin was beginning to grow concerned. Jigen, unsurprisingly, being the bastard he was, claimed it was because of "her fling with the new guy." Claimed she was spending more time sleeping with him than sleeping with members of the inner circle of the business they were trying to rob. That had earned him a good slap across the face, of course, but in fact it had felt as if Jigen had been the one to slap her. It had rattled her and forced her to face a very big predicament: reality.

She had first met Ryota in a bar. Their initial meeting wasn't ideal. She had had a rough day and had simply wanted a moment to herself. But sitting alone at the bar was a dangerous feat for a woman, let alone one like her. Horn dogs bothered her from the moment she sat down to the moment she left. The men ranged from those who offered a charming smile and asked if they could buy her a drink (though it was obvious to her their intentions) to those who boldly (but decidedly not intelligently) asked if she wanted to spend the night at their place. Further aggravated that she couldn't have even a moment alone to herself, she left the bar in a huff. Or, she had tried to, anyway. Until one last asshole took this as his chance and called to her,

"Excuse me, miss."

She turned to him, eyes blazing and lips curled into a rather unattractive snarl. He was lucky he had referred to her as 'miss' and not 'babe' or 'bitch'; otherwise she would've just slapped him across the face. "What? Don't tell me, are you going to ask if I'd be interested in going to your place so that I can 'experience the best night of my life'?" She quoted the air at the pick-up line she had heard countless times. "Or, better yet, 'experience the best sex I've ever had'? Well, I'm gonna burst your bubble and tell you that, no, I am not interested in any kind of contact with you. If you need to be 'satisfied', you're either gonna need to hire a prostitute, find some sorry drunk who can't tell left from right, or jerk off on your own tonight. I'll have no part of it."

The man stared at her with raised eyebrows. Initially he had seemed bewildered, but as Fujiko continued her rant the more he seemed annoyed and put off. His buddy next to him was laughing hysterically beside him, and Fujiko could only believe it was because he had never been said 'no' to in such a manner. She smirked slightly, savoring in his look. The smirk immediately fell of her face, however, when he raised his hand. A credit card – a very familiar-looking credit card – stared back at her.

"This fell out your purse." He raised an eyebrow at her, daring her to speak.

An awkward silence hung in the air between them. He nudged his friend roughly. His friend abruptly stopped laughing. He still grinned at Fujiko, however, as if mocking her. She resisted the urge to glare at him.

"Thank you." She took the card from him. Well. She definitely felt like an idiot. She opened her mouth then closed it, wondering what would be the right thing to say. She struggled for a few moments. Then, sighing, she settled for, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I was just so fed-up from all the men who hit on me tonight that I sort of…" She shrugged sheepishly. "Snapped."

His expression softened slightly. "I understand. And I don't blame you, either. Some guys really just can't take 'no' for an answer. Like Sho here." He elbowed his friend and laughed when his friend glared at him. He smiled gently at Fujiko. Although he wasn't particularly attractive (nor unattractive; he was average) he had a very nice smile. It softened the eyes behind his glasses. "But do keep in mind, not all men talk to you with the intentions of getting into your pants. Guys like that give the rest of us a bad name."

She didn't believe him. Not for a second. She'd dealt with men long enough to know that they were all pigs. Sure, maybe they would act like nice guys at first who wanted nothing but to bathe you in affection, but in the end they all wanted one thing. Still, it was cute of him to try to stand up for the atrocities of his gender.

Fujiko smiled. "Listen, I feel awful about what I said to you. Especially when you were just trying to help. Let me buy your next round of drinks."

The man with glasses raised his eyebrows in surprise. Then he chuckled. "Oh, no, I couldn't."

"You never say no to a lady, let alone a babe like her!" laughed Sho, slapping his friend on the back. "I'll take a whiskey, sweetheart!"

Fujiko smiled a sickly sweet smile. "Call me sweetheart one more time and I'll shove a damn bottle of whiskey up yours."

Sho sobered. His friend was holding back a laugh. "Please, Miss…?"

"Fujiko." She dipped her head in greeting. Sho returned the greeting and introduced himself as well.

"Pleasure to meet you, Fujiko," smiled the man with glasses, bowing his head to her. "I'm Ryota."

She and Ryota ended up spending the rest of the night at the bar. Sho excused himself after an hour or so, mumbling about how his wife would kill him if he stayed out any later. Fujiko wasn't sure if she'd ever talked to someone as long as she did with Ryota (out of genuine interest, that is, and not due to work). He was a teacher at some small town an hour long train ride out of Tokyo (Mitaka, did he say?) and was in the city for the weekend to catch up with friends.

Although Fujiko normally would've been put off by a man whose yearly salary was worth less than the purse she owned, there was something about Ryota that made her want to see him again. So when he asked her if he could take her out for coffee, she said yes. She told herself that he would only be a pastime of hers. A hobby, if anything. She was already in a very serious relationship with money and diamonds and gold and all things pretty.

However, the first date led to a second, and the days turned into weeks. He treated her like no man had ever treated her. He treated her...like a lady. He pulled out chairs for her and covered her with his jacket when it rained. Sure, she'd been showered with affection by countless other men, but those creeps only ever gave her the gold and jewelry because they all wanted one thing in return. Ryota, on the other hand, did all of it because, put simply, he was a good man. His top priority wasn't getting into her bed, but to make her happy. He loved her for _her_. Not for her body or looks. Of course, he told her how beautiful she was, but to him it was more than just about her boobs and ass. He loved the freckles on her nose and the birthmark on her shoulder. He loved her laugh and her sass, yet he also loved the softer side of her that very few people had a chance to see. She in turn loved the way he crinkled his nose when he was thinking and the way his smile lit up his face. She loved his soft-spoken demeanor and the warmness of his arms as they held her close to his chest when they slept.

But there were times like tonight when it was too much. Too unbearable. And no, it wasn't because Ryota was too needy or demanding. It was because she couldn't bear _herself_. She knew so much about him, yet he knew nothing about her. She hated lying to him about her profession. About the men she had seduced. About the money she had stolen and the people she had killed. And she knew she was placing him in danger. Who knew what would happen if one of her enemies – and she had _many_ enemies – found out about him. They could kidnap him. Torture him. Use him as bait. And in the end still kill him. Lupin and the others had warned her about the many possibilities. They had argued so loud that night that the neighbors had called the cops and they had all fled before old Zenigata caught on to them.

Fujiko had been well-aware of the dangers that came with a relationship, and she didn't need Lupin telling her so. She didn't need him making a mockery of her; he already did that often enough. But he – along with the western and eastern duo – didn't understand like what it was be in love. Goemon was oblivious, Jigen heartless, and Lupin immature. They didn't understand how an act as simple as holding Ryota's hand meant more to her than the diamonds Lupin had recently stolen. Even she didn't quite understand it. It scared her, in fact, how much she cared for Ryota.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't hear the balcony doors slide open behind her. It wasn't until familiar arms wrapped around her waist from behind did she realize that she was no longer alone on the balcony.

"Is everything okay?" Ryota's voice was but a whisper in the end. His breath was hot against her ear. She shivered against his touch.

She turned to face him. She looked up into his eyes, reading them. He wasn't wearing his glasses. His eyes stared back at hers questioningly, filled with concern. She smiled and gently placed a hand on his cheek.

She considered lying to him that she was fine and to tell him to go back to bed. But when she stared up into his eyes, so filled with love and concern – for _her_ – she found her thoughts pouring out of her mouth in a rush. "You know how in movies, they tell you if you really love someone, you have to let them go?" Her voice shook. Ryota's face suddenly clouded in worry and...fear? "It's not so easy in real life." She wanted to hold on to him and never let go. And maybe if she wasn't a spy, seductress, thief, and killer, she wouldn't have to.

"Damn right," Ryota replied with a fierce tone she rarely heard him use. "I won't let you go so easily."

And for the first time in a long time, Fujiko started to cry. She shook her head, backing away from him when he tried to hug her. "I-I'm no good for you," she whispered through her tears. "I'll be the death of you, Ryota." Little did he know how literally she meant this.

He smiled softly and kissed her through her tears. "Then I'll die a happy man."


	5. The Inspector and the Convict

She'd been covered in blood when they'd first met. A busted lip, a broken nose, a swollen eye. There'd been blood splattered across her shirt. She hadn't exactly been the prettiest sight. The woman she'd been fighting, however, had been in an even worse condition. She'd been rushed to the nearest hospital.

Their situation had been Zenigata's first encounter as a police officer, and even now, years later, he could recite the conversation he and his mentor had had with Hayami after breaking up the fight. He remembered how he'd been both awed and appalled by the woman's attitude.

"You tellin' me I'm goin' to jail for this?" Her words came out drawled and languid. The prospect of spending a night in a jail cell didn't seem to bother her. Zenigata had a feeling this wasn't her first encounter with the police.

"Just for the night, until we get everything sorted out," Zenigata's superior said calmly. "We have to wait until we hear the okay on the other civilian."

At the mention of the other woman, her lips curled in disgust. "Who cares about that bitch?" she scoffed. "She got what she deserved."

Zenigata raised his eyebrows and glanced towards his mentor uncertainly. Wasn't it wrong for this woman to talk to them so rudely?

"That remains to be seen," Officer Tanaka replied, unfazed by her comment. "Now, come along. Let's get to the station." He beckoned her forward.

"I had plans tonight, y'know," she sighed, pushing herself off the wall.

"Maybe you should've thought of that before." Zenigata smiled to himself, silently cheering Tanaka for his witty retort.

She shrugged. "Oh well. Y'know how life is. Unexpected things happen." She grinned mischievously, causing her bottom lip to split. Blood glistened. She didn't even seem to notice.

"Miss, your lip…" Zenigata, feeling a little bad for her, offered her his handkerchief. She turned to him in surprise, both by his presence and gesture. She hadn't even realized that he'd been there with them the whole time. Tanaka was also surprised, though he was beginning to look amused.

Then she smiled, which only made her lip bleed more. "Thanks, Officer, but I'll pass. I don't wanna dirty up your handkerchief. Besides," she added with a wink, "I'm a big girl. I can handle a little blood on my lip." She chuckled.

It seemed like injuries were a regular occurrence in her life. Zenigata could name many women who fainted at the sight of a mere paper cut. "You can keep it," he insisted. "Really. I don't mind."

She seemed further taken aback. Then, after a moment of consideration, she smiled and took the handkerchief. "If yah insist…" She pressed the handkerchief to her lip. "Such the gentleman. Maybe tonight won't be so bad if you're the one interrogatin' me." She winked at Zenigata. He felt his cheeks heat up. He hoped that the dark of the night hid his blush from view. But he had a feeling that she knew regardless, because she smirked widely. "I'll take good care of this handkerchief, love, don't you worry."

"Let's worry about taking care of _you_ first," Tanaka said. The three of them came to a halt before the police car. "We have paramedics waiting onsite to clean you up. Step in, please."

She hopped all too willingly into the car, acting as if she was taking a taxi to work rather than a police car to the station. "Not the first time I've heard that," she replied, smirking.

It certainly hadn't been the last time, either. Zenigata had encountered her a few times in his early years of the force. She had been arrested less often as the years had gone by, but the crimes had been growing in severity. Zenigata had lost track of her after he'd switched departments and districts. But now, three years after they had last crossed paths, he was on her tail once again. And this time her crime wasn't as simple as an assault.

The door jingled as he stepped into the restaurant. He stomped his snow-laden shoes against the rug and began to shake the snow off his hat as he assessed the interiors of the restaurant. It was nothing special. At least, to the untrained eye, it appeared to be nothing more than another run-of-the-mill sushi bar. The patrons were sparse, however, which was strange given that it was close to dinner time.

A woman wearing bright red lipstick greeted him. "Welcome. Table for one?"

Zenigata grunted, putting his hat back on. "I'm looking for Hayami Nozoki."

The woman's smile faltered. "I'm sorry, Miss. Nozoki is not in today. May I take a message?"

Zenigata threw back his head and laughed. As if he was foolish as to fall for that trap! "Tell her that Koichi Zenigata is here to see her. You see, I'm an old friend of hers." He drew back his coat to reveal the badge on his hip. "We have a lot we need to catch up on." He smiled. "Is there anyway you could speed up the delivery of the message?"

The hostess eyed the badge warily. "Certainly, Mr. Zenigata. Just a moment, please." She headed to the back of the restaurant and disappeared from view behind the set of doors. Zenigata waited impatiently, whiffing at the air and tapping his foot. Then the doors in the back swung open. First two thugs swaggered their way out. They came to a halt and faced each other. It took Zenigata a moment to realize that they were acting like the Queen's guards awaiting their Queen. And out walked the growing Queen of the underworld, Hayami Nozoki.

It had been years since Zenigata had laid eyes on her, and he found himself quite stunned by her appearance. It wasn't quite her looks that blew him away – though she was as beautiful as ever – but her aura. Something about her exuded _power._ Her every step seemed charged with electricity. She looked the part, too, dressed in a sharp button-down shirt and straight pants.

She grinned once she saw him. "I'll be damned." She came to a halt before him, placing her hands on her hips. "Officer Zenigata. It's been a long time." She cocked her head to the side, offering him a charming smile. "I've missed yah."

Zenigata would never admit that he'd missed her too. He tightened his hat around his head. "It's Detective now, actually," he corrected gruffly.

She raised her eyebrows and whistled. "Detective, huh? Look at you movin' on up in the world. Proud of you, Ko-chan!"

He scowled at the nickname. She'd come up with it shortly after the first time they'd met. Although she had always seemed to be under the impression that he despised it, he secretly enjoyed the nickname. To him, it was a name of endearment. He knew such thinking was a problem in itself. This case was going to drag back old memories and mixed emotions. He wasn't sure if he was fully prepared for it. "I wish I could say the same for you, Hayami," he replied softly. "Looks like you're moving down. Soon enough you're going to be digging yourself into a grave."

The smile fell off her face. She sobered. "I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout," she replied just as quietly. "I'm movin' up, just like you, babe."

He raised an eyebrow. "You call this moving up?" He gestured around himself.

"I know it ain't a five star restaurant but cut me some slack," she joked. "Soon enough we'll have celebrities and presidents and people from all over the world flockin' here! Besides," she added playfully, "Who are you to judge? Yah eat cup ramen every day!"

He twitched a little. He couldn't believe she still remembered that fact about him. It was bringing back old memories that he'd thought he'd stored away forever. "You know I'm not talking about the restaurant."

"Don't know what else you could possibly be talking about." She smiled innocently at him, a feat he had never known was even possible. But even her innocent smile seemed mischievous. It was obvious all she was saying was an act, a hoax. How the heck was he going to prove it, though?

Zenigata, rash and blunt as he was, said what his Captain had directly told him _not_ to say: "I'm talking about the drug business you're running."

It was worth the foolish risk to see the complete and utter look of shock on her face. Her pair of goons glanced nervously at one another and then at their boss, anticipating her response.

She quickly regained her composure, drawing herself up with an air of regality. She smiled sweetly. "Yah mean to say my sushi is so addictin' it's like a drug, right? I suppose I'll take it as a compliment."

He did not smile back. "You know that's not what I'm saying."

Her face hardened. Coolly, she lifted her chin. "Then that's quite an accusation to make, Offi – _Detective_." Her voice was silky smooth and deadly soft. Her eyes were no longer playful but dark and dangerous. "Can you back it up?" It was a challenge.

"Soon enough I will be able to," he countered. "And by that time the courts will have a say in how long you'll be in jail. There's only so much I can do for you, Haya."

He didn't see the way her eyes flashed emotionally at the nickname. She scoffed. "You act as if you protect me."

"That's what I'm trying to do," Zenigata agreed. "But, just like old times, you have to make it so difficult." She smiled a little reminiscently. Zenigata stepped towards her. The thugs also stepped forth, but Hayami put a hand up to stop them. "It doesn't have to be this way. You can end this now."

She closed the gap in between them so that they were face-to-face. Zenigata couldn't help but notice that she was just as pretty up close as he'd remembered. "Just how do you plan on convincing me to do that, love?" she whispered, her voice husky and seductive.

Zenigata had to fight against the urge to kiss her. "This isn't the path you have to take." His voice was equally soft. He placed a hand on her shoulder, staring hard into her eyes. She smirked ruefully.

"Ever thought that this may be the path I _want_ to take?"

He didn't bat an eye. "I know you well enough to know that's not true."

She raised a brow. "Oh? I admire your confidence, Detective. But has it ever occurred to you that I've changed over the years?"

He smiled. "You haven't changed a bit." He moved his hand from her shoulder to brush it against her cheek. He was pleased to see that he drew a reaction out of her; her eyes fluttered shut and she shivered against his touch. But the moment was fleeting. She stepped away, her lips quirked up in her characteristic smirk.

"Neither have you," she agreed. "Except you've got a bit of a beard thing goin' on. Doesn't really suit you, darlin'."

He blushed, self-consciously rubbing his beard. "A-and this life of crime doesn't suit you!" he countered loudly, raising a finger.

She laughed. "I have to disagree with yah on that. Nothin' suits me more than this." She gestured around herself, grinning broadly. "Besides," she added with a wink, "that's what makes me so irresistible to you. It's the whole bad girl or forbidden fruit concept that always draws you back to me, love."

Zenigata spluttered indignantly. Never in his years…! How dare she make such a…?! His thoughts were as muddled as his words. She laughed at him.

"Charming as always. Oh, but of course, how could I have forgotten?" She dug through her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. Zenigata stopped spluttering at once. "You _are_ a gentleman, after all."

He couldn't believe she had kept the handkerchief – let alone be carrying it on her person – he'd given to her all those years ago. It made him feel giddy and light and like a young boy.

"And now I bid you adieu." She waved the handkerchief faux dramatically in farewell. His feeling of blissfulness quickly vanished once he became aware of the two goons approaching him.

"Don't think this is the end, Haya," Zenigata growled over his shoulder as he began to be forced out of the restaurant. He dug his heels in, trying his best to fight back against the two beasts. "This is just the beginning!"

She grinned roguishly. "If that's the case, I look forward to seein' yah soon, Ko-chan. We're gonna have so much fun." She waved goodbye as the goons managed to pick him off his feet and toss him out to the streets. She smiled after him, chuckling quietly to herself. "Just like old times."

* * *

 _I decided I'm gonna have one more chapter after this one, one big epilogue depicting what happened to each couple. Based on the ideas I have, it's probably going to be a long chapter composed of 5 separate parts about as long as each of these one-shots.  
_


	6. Epilogue: Ever After

v)

It was as icy cold and squeaky clean and shockingly white as the last time Zenigata had come. The guards greeted him in their usual brisk ways. Soon enough he made his way into the visitation room, with its boring white tables filled with families and gaunt looking men and women dressed in dark blue jumpsuits.

Zenigata took a seat at one of the tables. Silently he observed the others. He smiled as he watched one of the prisoners place his daughter onto his lap.

"I thought Ol' Yama was messin' with me when he told me you were here."

Zenigata looked up, startled. A most familiar smirk greeted him.

"Now why would you think that?" frowned Zenigata.

Hayami rolled her eyes impatiently and took a seat across from him. She looked no different than usual, dressed in her faded blue jumpsuit and her wild black hair curling around her heart-shaped face.

"'Cause I haven't seen yah in months," she huffed, glaring at him. She folded her arms across her chest. "Thought you'd forgotten 'bout me."

"I've been coming here once a week for ten years; you think I'd really forget about you so easily?" She shrugged. Zenigata chuckled and shook his head. She was cute when she was mad. Even cuter when she was trying to hide the fact that she'd missed him. "You know I'd never forget about you, Haya." He extended his hand towards her. "You're always on my mind."

She softened. She glanced the other way and muttered incoherently underneath her breath. Reluctantly she reached out and took his hand. He squeezed it gently. "I've missed yah," she admitted grudgingly, refusing to look him in the eye.

He chuckled at her childish behavior. You'd think the woman was twenty by the way she acted, yet she was really double that age! "I've missed you too. I'm sorry I haven't been to visit."

Her lips curled deviously. "Yeah, what the hell's up with that?" She leaned back in her chair, reverting back to her usual self. "Now that yah have your fancy new job at the Interpol, yah ain't got time for your favorite convict?" Her eyes twinkled teasingly.

"Work's been busy." Zenigata rubbed at his eyes tiredly. "It's not easy adjusting from the national force to an international one. And I've just been assigned a new case." He grimaced.

"Oh?" She sat up in interest, cocking her head to the side. "Are yah tryin' to take down another of my kin?"

"You're not a drug lord anymore," he pointed out firmly. "Other drug lords are not your 'kin'."

She waved him off. "Psh, yah'll never understand, Ko-chan. It's a part of the brotherhood. Once a brother, always a brother."

"But you're a woman."

She sighed and shook her head. "Never mind. Don't worry about it." She cast him a meaningful look when he opened his mouth to argue. He scowled. "Then tell me, if you're not out to take down another of my brothers – _drug lords_ ," she corrected at the look he sent her, "then who are yah after?"

The thought of his case made Zenigata furrow his brows in frustration. To think they would assign him such a case. It was a disgrace! Though he supposed it made sense. He had, after all, only recently been admitted to the Interpol. They would obviously give him the least meaningful assignments. "A thief."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "A _thief_?" she repeated incredulously. "You've gotta be kiddin' me." His solemn expression argued that he was indeed not joking. She whistled and shook her head. "They're makin' a mockery outta yah! Makin' yah chase thieves…!" She scoffed. "I thought the Interpol was a step up, not a step down."

"He's not just any thief," Zenigata huffed defensively, despite the fact that he wasn't all too thrilled about his new assignment either. "He's international." She looked unimpressed. "The guy is only a kid – just shy of twenty-two! – but he's already stolen goods worth hundreds of thousands of yen!" Zenigata couldn't hide the awe in his voice. "If we don't put a stop to him now, who knows what'll happen when he becomes even more adept at his thievery?!"

"Or if he finds other thieves to help him," added Hayami. She appeared thoughtful now. "Hundreds of thousands, huh? That's impressive." She grinned slyly. "I wanna meet this kid."

"Maybe you will in a few weeks," Zenigata replied gruffly, half-jokingly, half not. "He may be your new next door neighbor."

"Oh?" She grinned at him. "That confident, huh?"

Zenigata was offended. "It shouldn't take me much longer than a few weeks to catch him. International as he may be, he _is_ just a thief. He's still young. He'll take foolish risks. He'll walk straight into my trap."

"I admire your confidence, Dete – _Inspector_." She grinned. "If I don't see the kid show up in a nearby cell in the next coupl'a weeks, though, I'd be more 'n happy to help yah catch the sucker."

He laughed. "That won't happen until you're released…which won't be for another two years! It won't take me that long to catch him! It won't even take me two _months_!"

She shrugged. "I dunno, Ko-chan. I gotta good feelin' 'bout this kid…" She trailed off, staring thoughtfully into space. Zenigata rolled his eyes and sighed impatiently. When he opened his mouth to speak, he was interrupted by the sound of the bell going off. Guards began to march up to tables and prisoners began to stand.

As carefree as she was, the thought of returning to her cell made Hayami's face fall. Zenigata always hated this part. No matter how many hellos and goodbyes he'd had with her, it always pained him to see her crestfallen expression. For a split second he would regret being the one who had put her behind bars – for being the one responsible for her pain. Then he reminded himself it was better to live behind bars than to live six feet under. Her sentence never should've been twelve years, though. But like he'd told her that faithful winter evening ten years ago, determining sentences was out of his control. Yet she had changed very little over her tenure. Zenigata was certain it was because of his weekly visits and other regular visits from her 'brothers.' She had changed, of course – nobody left prison the same person who had entered – but he was grateful the changes were not dramatic. She was still the Hayami he'd fallen in love with all those years ago.

"Time to head back, Nozoki." A guard came to a halt before her and Zenigata.

She grunted. "Right." She stood. "Am I gonn have to wait another few months before I see yah 'gain, Ko-chan?" Though her tone was teasing, he could tell from the crinkle in her brows that she was actually concerned. He smiled softly at her.

"I'll see you next week."

The last thing Zenigata saw of her before she was escorted away was her bright smile.

iv)

The apartment was warm and toasty when she walked in. She smelled food – yakitori? – and heard it sizzling away on a pan. She also heard music (the classics from the 1930's) playing from the kitchen. She smiled to herself and stood where she was, taking it all in. So this was what it felt like. To return home.

 _Home._

Fujiko had never really had a place to call home, not even when she'd been a child. But now she did. She'd never thought she would call a small apartment like the one she lived in a home. But it was home to her. Because of him.

She grinned and left her suitcase at the doorstep, flinging off her heels as she made her way to the kitchen. The music grew louder as she drew closer. A man's back came into view. He was facing the stove and was concentrated on the food in the pan. To her amusement, he was singing along to the music. He really was a terrible singer, yet she couldn't help but be charmed by the sight.

She took a long moment to soak it all in, smiling softly to herself. Then she broke the spell. "Ryota."

Her husband shrieked in a most unmanly manner. He nearly knocked over the pan when he turned to her, holding up his wooden spoon as if it would be some form of defense. He seemed relieved when he realized it was only her. He scowled when she laughed at him.

"You're lucky I'm not an intruder," she teased, her eyes alight with amusement. "Otherwise that spoon would've done nothing to save you."

"On the contrary," he huffed indignantly, "I could've poked an eye or two out with this!" He waved the spoon menacingly, accidentally flinging bits of food off of it.

She chuckled and shook her head. He could be so silly yet endearingly adorable sometimes. She'd really missed him these past few weeks. "I still have a lot to teach you about the ways of defense."

"Yeah?" he replied in the tone of someone taking on a challenge. He turned off the stove. "When you teach me how to fight I'll teach you how to cook." He grinned.

She scrunched her nose. "Now why would I need to learn how to cook when I have you for that?" she asked playfully. She walked up to him with a flirtatious strut, batting her eyelashes up at him.

Instead of engaging in playful banter, he softened. Brushing a stand of hair away from her face, he countered, "Why would I need to learn how to fight when I have you?"

She wrapped her arms around his waist and pecked him on the nose. "Because I'm not always here to protect you, silly! Take these past two weeks for example – what would you have done if you'd been robbed while I was away on my business travel?"

"That's what I have my wooden spoon for," he joked. She rolled her eyes. "Besides, I can deal with thieves. Don't you know?" His voice lowered into a husky tone as he leaned in towards her. "They're prone to my charm."

"Prove it," she dared in a whisper. He offered her a wicked smirk – he looked so damn sexy – before pulling her into a kiss. The kiss was passionate and heated; they drew apart breathless. Ryota's glasses were slightly askew. "Now that," Fujiko said breathlessly, forgetting all about their little game, "is how you're supposed to greet your wife."

Ryota laughed. "I've missed you, love." Smiling, he wrapped his arms around her. She sighed in content, burrowing her face against his chest. She always felt so safe and loved in his warm, protective arms.

"I've missed you too."

He kissed the top of her head. "How was Europe? Tell me all about it."

"I'll tell you over dinner," she replied playfully, pecking him on the lips. "I'm starving."

"Take a seat, then. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

Fujiko kissed him again, this time taking her sweet time and savoring the moment, before she made her way to the dining table. She paused when she saw a package addressed to her lying on it. "What's this?" she asked Ryota. "A present for me?"

"I don't know who it's from," he replied over his shoulder. "It doesn't have a return address." He paused and playfully suggested, "Maybe it's from a secret admirer."

She scoffed. "Some secret admirer if he can't even take the time to gift wrap it." Ryota chuckled. Fujiko shrugged and ripped open the package. Inside there was an envelope addressed to her and a jewelry box. She raised an eyebrow. Maybe Ryota had been right – this very well may have been from an admirer. Really, didn't people realize she was married? Shaking her head and clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, she ripped open the envelope and pulled out its contents. A letter with glaringly familiar writing greeted her. When she read it, she read it in the addressor's voice. At the end of it was his signature – Lupin III, with his potato-shaped face proudly drawn beside it, grinning up at her.

She laughed and traced her finger over the poorly drawn face. She smiled softly. Even though they had gone their separate ways, it was always nice to know that Lupin was always out there for her. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing…if she called for him, he would come running to her side. She appreciated the fact that they could still remain close despite her break away from the gang.

"Who's it from?" Ryota approached the table holding two steaming bowls of rice and yakitori.

She smiled and showed him the letter. "Lupin. He sent me a letter to congratulate me on opening my new clothing line of 'Dangerous Woman' in London."

Ryota smiled back. "That was nice of him. Did you hear anything from Jigen or Goemon?"

She snorted. "Of course not. You know how those two are."

Ryota chuckled quietly. Then his eyes landed on the jewelry box. "Did he send you a present too?" His expression grew pensive.

"Looks like it." She picked up the box and opened it. Involuntarily she gasped when the brilliant shine of gold momentarily blinded her.

"P.S," Ryota read from the back of the letter, "I stole this from the Gold Museum in Bogotá, Colombia. Thought it would suit you well." He turned his eyes from the letter to the gold necklace that Fujiko was now putting around her neck. His expression grew strained.

Fujiko was too excited to notice his stiffened expression. "This is _pure_ gold – 24 karats! Oh, it fits me perfectly!" She jumped around in excitement. "Lupin certainly knows my taste!"

Ryota didn't respond. It took Fujiko several moments before she realized her husband's change in demeanor. She stopped fretting over the necklace and turned to him. "Ryota?" she asked softly, frowning. "What's wrong?"

He sighed. He reached out and fingered the necklace. "24 karats," he mused softly. "This is a luxury I'll never be able to afford for you, Fujiko. It's times like these that makes me realize…" He trailed off. He dropped his hand back to his side.

"Hey," she said firmly, taking his hand. "This is just a toy. Nothing else. I could do without it. I've had enough gold and jewels and all that nonsense to last me a lifetime."

"That's beside the point," he said in frustration, breaking away from her. Sighing irritably, he ran his fingers through his hair and began to pace around, as he was wont to do when angry. "I _want_ to be able to buy nice things like that for you. Did you see how excited you just got? _I_ want to be the one that brings you that happiness." A hint of jealousy betrayed his voice.

Despite his genuine frustration (which she did feel a little bad about), she found herself chuckling. Men and their pride. "But don't you understand, my love?" She took him by the arm to stop him. He scowled and stared down at the floor like a child. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned in towards him. She tilted his head up so that he was looking into her eyes. "You _are_ the one who brings me happiness. I would rather have you than all the gold in the world."

His expression softened. But she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was still bothered. "Do you ever miss it?" he asked suddenly. It took her a moment to understand that he was referring to her old way of life.

"Sometimes," she admitted with a small smile. She'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the thrill of the hunt and the chase, the inexplicable sense of success and pride whenever she stole a priceless item. It certainly was a different sort of life – stealing and drinking and seducing – from the one she led now, a successful, married fashion designer. She'd never have thought that her life would turn out this way. This domestic life was all new to her. She was still getting accustomed to it. But she enjoyed it. She was doing something she loved and was successful in it, too. And she was with someone she loved. "But never as much as I would've missed having you in my life." She ran her fingers along his cheek. "You're the best decision I've ever made, Ryota. I love you."

His eyes finally softened. He smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you too."

iii)

The night sky was breathtaking. Thousands of stars winked down at him from above, and the moon was a full, bright silver. A soft breeze passed by, playing with Goemon's hair and tickling his face. He was leaned against a tall oak tree. Lupin and Jigen were not far from him by the dying campfire. Jigen's hat covered his face while he slept. Lupin mumbled to himself in his sleep, twitching about from time to time and nearly kicking Jigen in the process. Goemon smiled to himself and shook his head. He returned his attention to the brilliant sky above.

 _"You see those set of stars?" She pointed at the sky and traced the outline of the stars she was referring to. "We call that the Big Dipper."_

 _"Big Dipper?" he questioned, confused by the terminology. "What does that mean?"_

 _"Oh, a dipper is a ladle; a spoon." She made the motion of scooping something. "See, those stars make the handle, and those ones are the actual part of the ladle to spoon things up."_

 _It took him a few moments to see what she was seeing, and when he did he cried out excitedly. She laughed at him. "I know that constellation," he said. "We call that_ _Hokutō Shichisei in Japan."_

 _"Ho-ku-toe shi-chi-say," she tried slowly. Although her accent was still cringingly American, she was improving her pronunciations. "I think I'm getting the hang of this whole Japanese thing." She grinned._

 _"I don't know about that," Goemon teased, smiling playfully. "There's still a lot for you to learn."_

 _"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, her voice suddenly lowering into a husky tone. Goemon felt a chill run down his spine, already knowing by the look on her face where her thoughts were heading. "I can say the same to you…" Her fingers tantalizing played with the area of exposed skin on his chest as she leaned in to kiss him._

Well, she certainly had taught him a thing or two that night. Goemon shook his head, chasing the memory away. Though he thought of Anabelle often, it was on nights like these that he remembered the laughs they had shared and the kisses they'd had. The country side always made him think of her. Even though this was no American country soil – it was actually Ukrainian – it was country nonetheless. You couldn't see the stars like you did out here in the city.

They'd known from the beginning that they were fooling themselves. That they would never work. He, a Japanese samurai by day, a thief by night. She, an American cowgirl who lived and breathed the life of a rancher. They lived such different lives. It was by chance that they had met, and never again would their lives intersect after the thieves' vacation was over. Although Goemon had often worried about their impending future – their inevitable breakup – Annabelle, to no surprise, enjoyed every day without a worry in the world. She was wild and free-spirited. She'd broken him out of his shell, and he had fallen fast for her. When the two-week vacation had come to a close and it was time to say their goodbyes, it was Goemon who had the most difficulty letting go.

 _"Don't be sad, babe." She smiled as she cupped his face. He took a deep, long look at her, trying to ingrain her face in his memory. "We both knew this was coming." Her smile was sad. "But this is life, y'know? We've just got to remember the good times we had with each other. And then we move on."_

 _"It's not easy as you make it sound," he muttered. "I'll miss you, Annabelle."  
_

 _"And I'll miss you, Goemon. More than you'll ever know." She sighed and hugged him tightly, burrowing her face against his chest. He hugged her back tightly._

He still remembered the warmth of her arms, the scent of her – she'd always smelled like hay and strawberries. It was the strangest and most intoxicating scent.

 _"You take care of yourself, now, and watch out for Jigen and Lupin too, won't you? God knows the mess Lupin will get y'all into…"_

 _He chuckled._

 _"And don't forget." She took his hand and placed it over her chest. Her hazel eyes twinkled with emotion. "No matter where you are in the world, you'll always be a part of my heart."_

Goemon stood. He glanced towards Jigen and Lupin. They were still asleep (so sound asleep that, in fact, Lupin was drooling). Then he pulled a locket from the inner folds of his kimono. It was old and tarnished – Fujiko probably would've chucked it out if given a chance – but it was one of his most prized possessions. He opened it and saw Annabelle's face laughing up at him. He smiled softly. "And you'll always be a part of my heart," he murmured, tracing the outline of her face in the photograph. "Good night, Annabelle."

Little did he know she was greeting him good morning on the other side of the world.

ii)

Step, turn, step. First arabesque. Twirl. Second arabesque. Hold it…hold it…step, turn, third and final arabesque.

Jigen watched the ballerinas, half-amused with himself. Though he would never claim to be a ballet expert, he certainly knew more than the average man – even the average woman. Spending twenty years with a ballerina did that to you. That very ballerina was currently teaching ballet to a class of high school students. They were all still so very young, with rosy cheeks and hope glimmering in their eyes. So very innocent. Jigen remembered when Lils was one of those students. But, no, she had never been quite like that. These students...they came from rich families and attended private schools. Lils had never had any of that. It had been out of sheer dedication, hard work, and luck that she had managed to make it to the ballet academy after graduating high school. She'd never taken any formal lessons until then; her parents hadn't been able to afford it.

Yet look at where she was now. After the peak of her dance career, she had decided to retire from the stage at the age of thirty-four and teach instead. At least, that was what Jigen had gathered from the newspaper clippings and by asking ballet fanatics. He didn't know for certain because he hadn't seen or talked to Lils since that faithful night he had broken up with her six years ago.

 _He stood before her, hands in his pockets, his expression hidden by the rim of his fedora. A chill breeze swept through the park, making him shiver. But what was even bitterer than the wind was Lils's expression. Rarely was Lils ever upset like she was now. It made him feel awful to think that he was the one who'd hurt her like that._

 _"C'mon, Lils," he coaxed quietly. It was so cold that when he spoke he could see his breath. "You know this is what's best for both of us."_

 _"Is it?" Her voice was icier than the air. "Or is it what's best for you?"_

 _"Oh, don't give me that," Jigen snapped, suddenly feeling a burst of anger flare in him. "I'm doing it for us. We can't keep kiddin' ourselves like this. You're a ballerina. You have a good life. I'm a thief, a killer, a hitman. I can't_ _– we can't..." He sighed in frustration. He took off his hat and scratched the back of his head. "It's just not gonna work."_

They'd broken up after a year of dating. Jigen and Lupin had decided to move on from Europe and head over to Asia, where they eventually ended up adding Goemon and Fujiko to the gang (though Fujiko they could've done without!) Jigen had always known that he and Lils would never work out in the long run. Their lives were too different. She had her stable life in Paris as a ballerina and he lived a precarious life in the shadows. He could not ask her to give up her dream for him. As much as he wanted to have her by her side, as much as he loved her, he knew that it would be best for them to go their separate ways.

 _"I may have a good life," she murmured, her eyes sad and soft, "but it's not great without you."_

 _Damn her for pulling at his heartstrings like that._

 _"You have other options, Daisuke." Her hand was warm on his arm. He wasn't sure the last time she_ _– or anybody, for that matter_ _– had called him by his first name. Her eyes were pleading. "I'm not telling you to choose me or your job. I'm telling you there are other options to life than one of crime."_

But he'd made his choice years ago when he'd killed his first victim. He wasn't like Lils. He didn't have ambition and hope and talent. The only talent he had was with a gun. And so it was he stuck with his life of crime. After going their separate ways, for the first time in their lives they broke off all methods of contact. No letters, no phone calls, no surprise visits. It had been Jigen's decision. It still hurt him to think of Lily's heartbroken expression ("you mean…I'll never see you again?"). But it had been for the best. It would've been unhealthy for them to continue any sort of relationship. It was dangerous, too, for her to have contact with him. Who knew what his enemies would've done had they found out about her? It was another reason Jigen had decided to break it off with her.

He stared at her through the glass window. The parents of the students were eying him suspiciously; he didn't exactly blend in. Not that he cared about what they thought. He was here for Lils. Dressed in a black leotard and skirt, her caramel brown hair pulled back in a sleek bun, she looked the part of a regal ballet instructor. She was just as beautiful as he'd dreamnt of and remembered. Time had changed her surely – he knew it certainly had changed him – but she still wore that bright smile on her face that he so adored. Even after all these years she had not let life get the best of her. Even though Jigen viewed life far more darkly than she did, he admired her tenacity and bright outlook. It was just another part of her he loved.

Ah, yes, love. It was true. Jigen was still in love with Lils. Despite all the years that had passed between them, his feelings for her had not changed. He doubted they ever would. He'd been in love with her for many, many years now. Lupin always told him to retire and go marry the woman already. But it wasn't quite that easy. Thankfully Goemon, who had – was still in? – a similar predicament as Jigen understood and sympathized with him. But, despite it all, Jigen was here today. He and the gang were passing through Paris; he simply couldn't miss this opportunity to see her. He was nervous, of course. He hadn't talked or seen her since their break-up, which hadn't exactly ended very well. He wasn't sure how she'd react to him. Would she be glad to see him, or would she be furious? He knew either way that she would speak to him; she wasn't the kind of person to give him the cold shoulder. For that he was thankful.

The class came to an end and Lils was dismissing her pupils. They began to file out one by one. A few lingered back to chat with her. She listened very attentively to each student's needs and questions. Once they were satisfied, they too left the classroom. Lils became the only one left. Jigen took a deep breath to steady himself. Should he talk to her now or wait for her after she'd showered and whatnot? But wouldn't that be strange if he–

All calculations were thrown out the door when she turned her head towards the window. She brightened and waved.

He inhaled sharply. A part of him was scared to speak with her and wished to run far away, while another part of him wanted to hold her and never let go. He felt as giddy and nervous as a teenage boy. The situation was almost laughable. He could handle all the ridiculous life-threatening shit he, Lupin, and Goemon pulled, yet he couldn't talk to the woman he loved?

When he finally gathered the courage to smile at her, she was no longer smiling at him. She was facing the door now and speaking to someone who was entering. No, not someone, but some _people_ – a man and a young girl to be exact. The man was incredibly handsome and appeared French. He held the hand of a two or three-year old girl. Jigen's smile fell off his face.

The girl ran up to Lils, throwing her arms up as if expecting to be carried. Lils laughed and did just that, easily swinging the child up into her arms. She rubbed her nose against the child's while speaking to her. Then the Frenchman said something that got Lils's attention, and when she turned to him he kissed her. It appeared to be a rather playful kiss; Lils was smiling while she backed away, and the Frenchman tried to hold her closer. To his disappointment, however, she slipped from his grasp, giggling all the while. The child squealed delightedly and pulled at Lils's hair. The two had the same caramel colored hair.

Jigen didn't know how to act, think, or feel. He felt like he was watching a T.V. show; he felt far away and not present in the moment. He felt as if he was watching another world through a telescope, yet at the same time that he was intruding on something very private. Maybe it was because he didn't want to believe it was true. But of course it was. He had been foolish to think that she wouldn't have settled down by now. Of course she would've. Any man would've been more than happy to take her to be his bride. That was what Jigen had always wanted for her, wasn't it? Yet why did it hurt so bad? Why did he wish it was _him_ she was looking at in that way?

The young girl happened to glance towards the window and saw him staring at them. He wondered how frightening he must've appeared to her – he already didn't seem like a particularly friendly man, and he was certain his expression looked haunted. But the child didn't cry out. Instead she looked at him curiously, her doe eyes wide in curiosity. Jigen stared back at her, and he could only think one thing:

 _You could've been mine._

The thought made him feel queasy. He wasn't sure what part of the thought made him feel so. Was it the fathering aspect of the whole thing, or was it the missed opportunity – perhaps ruined or broken opportunity would've phrased it better – that made him feel uneasy? He wasn't quite sure. All he knew was that he couldn't bear any of it a moment longer.

Just as the caramel-haired child brought Lils's attention the window, Jigen turned his back to it. Lowering his hat – the very same hat Lils had gotten for him almost fifteen years ago – far over his head, stuck his hands in his pockets, and began to walk away. With every step he took away from her and grew further from her, the more pain he felt. He felt like he had lost a part of himself and would never get it back. Because a part of him belonged with her. But she no longer belonged with him.

i)

Sonia took a sip of her champagne. She observed the carefree dancers with her calculating eyes; they missed nothing. She was not going to let her guard down for even a second, despite her friend's insistence that she "let loose" and "stop actin' like a cop all the freakin' time." Unfortunately, when you live the life of a detective, you're always on duty, regardless of whether or not you're actually on the clock. Sonia, unlike her friend Tiff, had not believed for a second that the invitation to this masquerade ball she'd received was actually from a "secret admirer." Sonia knew it must've been someone that she had put behind bars but was now out and wanted revenge. There could be no other explanation to the boxed dress and invitation she'd received last week. She knew there were no suitors in the entire city of New York that were interested in her – for romantic reasons, anyway. She could name quite a few that wanted to see her dead.

 _Tiff rolled her eyes. "You're being ridiculous, Sonia. The man has sent you a_ dress _for God's sake! What kind of criminal would go out of his way to do that?! Not to mention how_ nice _and_ expensive _this dress is." Admiringly she touched the dress's silky fabric._

 _It was indeed a beautiful dress, Sonia was loathed to admit. Its deep burgundy color went well with her olive skin tone and the cinched waist highlighted her shape. It fit her perfectly, too. "You know I don't do dresses."_

 _Her friend sighed in exasperation. "Which is exactly why this man got one for you! Don't you see?! He knows you so well that he has to buy a dress for you!" She sighed dreamily. "How romantic."  
_

 _Sonia snorted. "All I see is a psychopath plotting out exactly how he plans on killing me," she deadpanned. Although she was no homicide detective, she'd heard enough from their side of the precinct to know that this very well may end up as one of their cases.  
_

 _"Jesus!" Tiff slapped a hand to her face. "Can't you just accept the fact that there's a man out there who's interested in you?" Tiff's expression changed as she seemed to realize something. Her voice dropped. "You can't waste your whole life waiting for him, y'know."_

Ah, yes. _Him._ It had become almost taboo to speak of him, yet Sonia found relief and happiness in thinking of him. She'd never thought she'd fall for a guy like him. Brash, loud-mouthed, childish, and mischievous…yet it was his playful personality that brought out her softer side. But he wasn't just any obnoxious guy she'd fallen for – he just so happened to be one of the top thieves in the world. It was possible he would even one day outdo his grandfather among the legendary thieves in history. Oh, what was she saying? She wasn't supposed to _admire_ his thievery skills; she was supposed to arrest him for them! But there was a reason Inspector Zenigata had been chasing him for years; he was a particularly slippery thief. Of course her feelings towards him didn't help.

It had been years since they had last seen each other, since she had been on his case. After a mix-up of sorts, she had had to team up with the thief in order to escape from the clutches of the man who wished to see him dead. Throughout their adventure they had ended up falling for each other. They'd both known that after their little fling things would go back to normal. He a thief and she an officer of the law. It was inevitable.

And things did go back to normal…for the most part. He still sent her letters with a silly drawing of his face as a signature. Sometimes he sent her gifts from the places he was traveling to and briefly residing in. He always took care to make sure it was something native to the culture he was in. Never did he dare send her anything he had stolen, although he very well could've done so to tease her. But he didn't do it out of respect for her and her profession. Yes, despite the fact that he thought himself to be above the law, he did respect the officers that tried to hold him accountable for his actions.

Unfortunately she could never write back to him because he was constantly on the move. She could've asked Zenigata to deliver the letters to him, she supposed, since the Inspector was always on the thief's tail. But of course doing that would bring attention to their relationship and would insult her fellow man of the law. Little did she know that the Inspector was in a very similar predicament as she and may very well have delivered the letters for her.

Sonia was brought back to reality when somebody accidentally brushed against her arm while reaching towards the punch bowl. The masked man excused himself with a smile.

Of course they had to be at a masquerade ball. Of all parties. It confirmed to her that her "secret admirer" was indeed a man – or woman – who wanted vengeance. What better place to act discreet than a masquerade ball, where everyone's faces and intentions were hidden? Sonia hadn't worn a mask herself. Not only did she think the whole thing was stupid, but she didn't want to further entice and thrill the psychopath by playing along with him. If he wanted her, then it was very easy to come and get her. She only prayed civilian lives wouldn't be lost in the process. At the thought, Sonia felt around her bag. Cool steel greeted her skin. So long as her gun and her badge was with her she could bring down the criminal who so desired her. Even dressed in a dress and heels she was completely capable of herself.

She noticed somebody approaching her from the corner of her eye. Casually she took a sip of her champagne. The man was dressed in a shockingly white suit and appeared rather tall. Half of his face was covered with a white mask. The Phantom of the Opera. She was half-amused.

He stopped by her, casually leaning against the table. He grinned at her, which looked rather strange since she could only see half of his mouth. There was an overwhelming sense of familiarity about him. The hairs on her arms rose. Her muscles tensed and coiled, ready to pounce at any given moment. Then she forced a smile on her face.

"You know this is a masquerade ball?" the man drawled. One eyebrow quirked at her. Even his voice was familiar. Why was it that this man was so very familiar to her yet she couldn't put a name to the half-hidden face?!

"I don't feel a need to hide my identity," she replied slowly, carefully choosing her words. Her gun felt heavy in her bag.

The man laughed. His laugh sent a chill down her spine – not because it was shrilly, but because it was warm and genuine and wholesome. His warmth and familiarity made her feel more alert than ever. "It's all part of the act; it's for fun! Really, you shouldn't be such a killjoy." Despite the circumstances, Sonia found herself scowling. "But on the upside," he added, smiling charmingly, "Now I can admire your beautiful face openly, without wondering what beauty lay behind the mask."

She rolled her eyes. She decided to play along with him for the time being. It was too soon to arrest the man without a proper reason to. Thankfully the familiarity of the man made her feel slightly at ease (which, actually, was _not_ okay; this sense of comfort and warmth should've made her even more on edge!) and she didn't feel as if she had to fully act. "I thought you were supposed to be dressed as the Phantom, not Casanova."

Instead of sulking away like some men would've, he seemed to take her remark in pride. He grinned that half-grin again and winked. "I'm a little bit of both." He extended a hand towards her. "My Casanova instincts are telling me to ask you for a dance. Would you do me the honor, m'lady?" His tone was playful as he bowed.

She rolled her eyes and laughed. Stupid, but cute. And maybe a little charming. "Sorry to disappoint yah, Casanova, but I can't dance."

He didn't seem the least bit disappointed. Her every attempt at rejection only seemed to fuel his fire. His one eye sparkled excitedly. "Nonsense." His grin was mischievous. She felt her breath falter. "Everyone can dance." Without further ado he grasped her hand and began pulling her to the dance floor. She was so surprised by his sudden movement that she barely had time to argue; by the time she began, he was already placing a hand on the small of her back. He raised their entwined hands.

"First and foremost," he began, "you need to place your hand on my shoulder. I can only lead so much, y'know." His tone was playful.

Sonia was not amused. "Seriously, man," she grumbled. "I've never ballroom danced before."

His smile was only encouraging. "There's a first time for everything!"

 _The room was completely dark, save for the centerpiece. The diamond shone and glittered even in the dark._

 _"I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered, wiping sweat off her forehead. She bit her lip. Although anxiety and being alert was a part of the job, this was a different kind of anxiety she felt. Because this wasn't a life-or-death situation that she had to encounter every day as an officer and detective; this was a question of ethics.  
_

 _"There's a first time for everything." Lupin's grin made her want to punch him in the face. He reached out to squeeze her hand reassuringly but she slapped him away._

 _"I'll have you know this is_ not _the first time I'm stealing anything," she corrected, feeling strangely defensive of herself. "But it's been a while," she admitted. "I haven't done a crime since I was a teen. If my Captain finds out…"_

 _"He won't." Lupin's hand was warm over hers. She didn't fight him off this time. "C'mon, now, Sonia. You know we have no alternative."_

 _She looked long and hard into his eyes. There was nothing but genuine warmth and encouragement in them. Then she closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, they were filled with determination. She nodded._

 _"Let's do this."_

She really was an awful dancer. She kept tripping over her own two feet or stepping on his. Other dancers were twirling circles around her and the Phantom. Yet he was patient with her. He counted underneath his breath to help her keep track of the steps and showered her with praise every chance he got (which wasn't very often, but the guy tried his best). She swore when she stepped on his shoe again. His shoes had been pearly white when he'd first approached her, but they were now scuffed.

"It's okay," he reassured her soothingly. He gently lifted her chin. "Nuh-uh," he tutted when she tried to look back down at her feet. "Hasn't anybody told you not to look down if you're afraid of heights? It's the same thing with dancing. I'll lead you; don't worry about your feet. Feel the music and move to it."

"The only thing I'm feelin' is a headache," she growled, disgruntled.

He chuckled. Again, he lifted her chin. This time she maintained eye contact with him. "Trust me," he said softly. And he twirled her around.

 _"Why should I trust you?" The dungeon was cold and damp. It smelled of rotten flesh. Torture devices hung on the other side of the dungeon, beyond the bars that held them captive. Her wrists were bleeding from the tightness of the ropes that bound her to her fellow prisoner. "You're a thief. A criminal."_

 _"But a good man." His serious tone silenced her. "Listen, Detective, it looks like were stuck together for now – literally and figuratively." She rolled her eyes. "If you wanna make it outta here alive, we're gonna need to work together."_

 _She sighed. She heard and felt him wiggling on the other side. "You're right," she admitted. "God knows how long it'll take Zenigata or your partners to find us."_

 _"It'll be too late by the time they do." His tone was dark for the first time since she'd known him. "We need to trust each other, Sonia."_

 _Surprised to hear him address her by her first name (and not Detective Rod-up-her-ass, as he had earlier enjoyed calling her) she looked up. She was even more surprised and doubled back when she saw that he was looking back at her. He stood before her, rubbing at his wrists. They too were red and raw. He grinned a little and bent down to her level. His eyes were warm and sincere. "I need you to trust me."_

Sonia felt as if she had been doused with cold water. She suddenly became aware of why the hand she held was so familiar, why the Phantom's grin brought butterflies to her stomach, why she loved the sound of his voice and his laugh.

She stopped dancing. Time seemed to stop. Her voice caught in her throat. Years of emotions welled up inside her chest and threatened to burst out. Yet all she could do was whisper, "…Lupin?"

He smiled softly and caressed her cheek. She shuddered at the contact. "Congratulations, Detective." His voice was gentle and tender. With his free hand he reached up to his face and lowered his mask. She took a sharp intake of breath. A face she had dreamed of for years greeted her. "You've just unmasked your secret admirer."

And he kissed her soundly.

* * *

 _Took me a while to do this Epilogue, but I've finally finished it! Unfortunately not everybody got their happy ending - I wanted to make the endings realistic. I felt bad for Jigen, though. This guy always has romance troubles. Does anybody have a favorite couple out of all the pairs? I'd be happy to hear your thoughts! Thank you!  
_


End file.
